C-Sec : Blue and Red
by Bryoche
Summary: A story about two C-Sec detectives finally being true to themselves. This is a lewd story about budding love and intimacy between a OC Male Human and a OC Female Turian, told from the perspective of the human. May find a continuation in the coming months.
1. Part I

**Human Male (C-Sec) / Turian Female (C-Sec)**

 **by Brioche/Bryoche**

 **Citadel**

 **Part I**

« -and then the Krogan answered : « Gun ? What gun ? This is just my frying pan !» Eh ? Ah ? That's a good one now in'it ? » Beaming, he was sure this one would get a good reaction off her. He delivered the punchline perfectly, and even peppered the joke with small theatrical gestures and krogan grunts imitations that would have made the Asari from accounting burst out laughting.

« Hm... I never heard that one before. » she answered flatly, her head resting on her palm and a bored look across her features. She stared at him, dead silent, as his smile and optimism seemingly desintegrated before her, occasionally taking a sip nonchanalty from her turian brandy. The discreet ice cubes jingling inside her glass made him realize that the music stopped a while ago and that he was simply standing there, arm outstretched, smiling like an idiot. He didn't last five seconds before admiting defeat.

« Come on !» he finally let out, dejected, crashing down clumsily on the comfortable couch before him. « How many jokes will it takes to get you to crack a smile ? »

« Keep trying. »

« Do turians even smile ? Or do they flap their mandible around like this to laugh ? » he wondered, using both of his hands against his jaw to mimic some kind of unsetling nutcracking action. « Do _you_ even smile ? Or laugh ? »

« You wouldn't be able to guess if I was smiling right now.» she teased in a dead-pan tone, « … And you'd know if I was laughting. It would mean that one of your joke is successful, or at least _passable._ » A sip from her blue brandy punctuated her condemnation, her brow plates frowning mischievlously.

He groaned and shifted his weight to bury his back deeper against the soft fabric of the sofa. She was still looking at him, lazily hunched on an ottoman across him, paying close attention to the moment he would start to sulk just so that she could gloat about it. Looking down over the low steel table that separated his couch from her oversized cushion, he tried to locate his own drink among the many colorfuls cans and bottles. His tongue suddenly dry and heavy in his mouth. He leaned forward, blinking hard as he tried to internally rationalize that he was merelytipsy, and just on the verge of being really drunk. That meant that he could surely get one last drink before going home

But he couldn't make head or tails from the carnival of alcohol and snacks that was parading on the table. Too many colors, too many labels, too many chances of some dextro-amino beer laying in ambush to send him to the hospital again. Half-drank and half-eaten remnants of their joyous party. It wasn't everyday that the C-Sec managed to completely shut down a violent Humano-Volus red sand smuggling ring, something that would be the headline on the Citadel News Network for some days, something that would deserve a throughout bacchanalia. This time, according to the ancestral Zakera Ward tradition of drawing straws, it was her appartment that got "choosen" as the place to crash.

And as according to that old tradition, they infact did _crash_ her appartment.

The striped blinds filtered a vibrant blue-green light into the messy appartement, the room's lighting seemingly pulsating at the rhythm of the giant "Rosenkov Materials" neon advertisement outside. A heady and stuffy smoke was still rising from an abandonned Elcor cigar, slowly burning alone on the kitchen table amidst a constellation of empty plates, dusty crumbs and fruit peels. What was left of the cocktails and belgian sushis were moved to the lounge table when the party started to dwindle, and now the floor was covered in a odd flock of cushions and round seats. The stereo was silent, its voice either broken by such an intensive use or shamed by the musical taste of its users.

Everybody else left, leaving only her as the defeated host and himself, late to the party but last to leave. As always.

« What are you thiking about ? » she asked, pulling him out of his reverie.

« I was thinking about one last drink before taking off. But I can't make what's levo or dextro-jumbo from all of... this. » he answered, designating the table with an exagerrated hand gesture. « I'm in the mood for something... Strong, but not too strong. Maybe something a little bit sour, but sweet at the same time. You know ? » he tapped on his chin, acting innocent « Something very stoic and unflinching, something that could claw my eyes out but will make my heart melt. See what I mean ? Something- »

« Something like me, I get it. » she interrupted with a blasé sigh. « Let me find it for you. »

He chuckled as she rose from her seat, drink in hand. She stretched herself, eyes closed and mandibles streched, her long arm bending strengely behind her back, and simply ajusted her snug black top, zipping it back up to the collar. Standing up, she looked down towards him, towering above, two piercing green eyes between fine scrawls of red warpaint. He paused, a little confused by her pensive expression and long gaze.

« What ? » he snorted, staring at her though and unmoving face.

Her mandibles silently opened, showing rows of sharp dagger-like teeth, as if she was about to say something. She tensed up, raising her head and exhaling forcefully.

« You did a good job today. » she curtly said. « You are a credit to our team. »

She turned around and disappeared towards the kitchen.

It was an unexpeced and out-of-character reaction coming from her. He frowned and scratched his head, rubbing his eyes vigorously. She wasn't exactly forthcoming with compliments. Has the alcohol gone to her head ? He sighed and let himself get devoured a little more by the soft maw of the couch. They shared history, the both of them. She was assigned as his patrolling partner when she got transferred to the Zakera C-Sec section. Her stoic and military-minded personallity were probably supposed to counter his laid back and relaxed attitude. He never managed to make her crack a smile during duty, and she never managed to make him care about his job enough to not get to the station two to five minutes late – or shave for all that mattered. She was unbending protocol, he was unpredictable improvisation. She was the cold ruthless letter of the law, and he was the open and forgiving spirit of the law, or at least he saw himself that way. The very picture of Turiano-humano contrast. Their little petty tug-of-war about how to handle field work has been going for two years now, full of drunken arguments and rarely a fistfight or two.

But there was no one else he trusted more than that woman. Crashing a C-Sec shuttle in the middle of an illegal krogan gambling den and having to survive the wrath of its owner make you learn some things about trust. They had to look after each other back then.

Funny, now that he thought about it, he never really tried to fight her on the importance of protocol since then. And she never gave him flack for coming in late or not shaving when his arm was healing.

« Here, try this. » her rough and flanging voice said.

She was handing a square glass containing a layer of beautiful amber liquid to him. Taking the drink from her, he tentatively smelled it. Earthy. Light and fruity.

She carefully sat down on the other side of the couch, one long leg bent under her other thigh. She turned her head towards him as she sipped on her own beverage – that she seemingly refuelled back in the kitchen – while making the ice cube tingle nicely. He put his lips to the side off the glass and bent his head backward.

The amber liquid was strong-tasting : a burning hot and numbingly heavy sensation flooding his palate and throat before a sweet, sugarry and honeyed aftertaste lingered on his tongue. The liquor was much more loaded than its smelled preluded to it, but it was an enjoyable drink. Something like cognac or a very sweet whisky ?

« It's really good. » he admited, impressed, smacking his lips contentedly. « What is it ? »

« Something from Earth. It's a blend of honey and an alcohol humans call "vodka". »

Bewildered, he looked at his glass like it used to contain a golden molten treasure that he just drank. He spun his head towards her : « Why do you have something so- »

« Relax, it was gift from a human girl I befriended back on Earth. She was pretty young, so she probably didn't understood how our metabolism differed and that I couldn't drink that. » she shrugged. « I'm just glad I finally managed to get someone to taste it. »

He paused and scratched his head. He never expected such a story coming from her. His curiosity was peaked : « You went to Earth ? » he asked with a small laugh.

« Yes. I think it was four or five years ago ? A continuation of the Palaven-Earth military exchange program, you remember ? I served under some human commanders as an experiment on how to integrate turian soldiers to the human chain of command. »

He scratched his chin, suddenly understanding why she joined the Zakera C-Sec section where the majority of officers are humans. « Did you liked Earth ? »

She sighted, her rough voice betraying just a hint of longing « It's a cold place for my kind, much colder than Palaven. But I have good memories about my stay. Your species developped some interesting concepts during your young history.»

« Concepts ? »

« Your police special force training, your theory about nuclear detterence and mutually assured destruction... Oh ! And those "helicopters" of yours are pretty interesting to look at ! A shame that your governement lost touch with the teaching of that ancient Roman Empire, humans would gain a lot by learning how an autocratic leadership would push them towards greatness. »

He groaned with disapointement. « What about our culture, our people ? »

« The people ? » she repeated, incredulous. « Well... It always surprised me how _friendly_ your kind is. How open they are to each other. » She said, sneaking a sip from her drink.

« Any anecdote ? » he prodded.

« I've seen people greet by embracing each others, a traditional festival where humans climb over their comrades and stand on their shoulders to make the tallest tower... And your holos... » she turned her head towards him, frowning accusingly « As one of your human expression says : your kind have a pretty _touchy-feely_ culture. »

He laughted at her reaction. « That's just because you turians are always so repressed and inhibited. No, wait... That's just because _you_ are too hung-up to understand us. »

« Tch ! » she sneered at his remark, shifting her weight from side to side.

« You know what would be good for you ? » he continued, unabated « Experimenting something _tactful_ and _tactile_. They rhyme now ain't 'em ? See what I mean ? Something that would make your heart shed its iron shell and go _boom-boom_. See what I mean ? 'cause I mean _sex_. 'cause Turians are- »

She froze and tensed up, her sharp talons visibly squeezing her glass as her mandibles flapped angrily. « Is this the start of another one of your joke ? » she asked, exasperated.

He stopped himself, mouth agape. Suddenly realizing that he didn't want to vex her for something so uncalled-for as a dirty joke at the expense of her race. He had too much respect for her to tease her like that anymore. He quickly wondered if he wasn't making a fool of himself again. Probably, he thought. But somehow he felt he couldn't back down from what he said. It would make him feel like a cowardly boor. He had to rectify his trajectory. Maybe by being honest with her ? She earned a little honesty from him, right ?

« No. I think I sincerely believe it. » he started, trying to sound as sincere as he could, an earnest attempt a tad bit ruined by his drunken slur. « I mean, sex is great now in'it ? It feels _good._ Intimacy with someone you like feels _good_. Feels confortable, you know ?»

She turned towards him furrowed her eyes, seemingly unconvinced or still vexed. Her brow-plates and mandibles moving menacingly in the dimly lit athmosphere.

« That and the fact that sex relieves stress. » he blabbered, a little lost in his own argument. « By liberating your bottled-up frustrations, you are more vigiliant to your surrounding, more attentive to the need of the team because your own have been taken care off, you know ? It's even an excellent way to understand how your own body work ! What feels good and what feels not, what's sensitive or whatnot, you know ? Sex is a way of discovering yourself. »

Mandibles slightly outstreched and her head tilted on the side, she was looking at him with less anger and maybe more confusion. He felt that not only he was furiously digging his own grave deeper by the second, but also that he was probably giving her a very Asari-like mind-bending spiritual look on something as raunchy as sex.

« So yeah. I really think that you should get some sex with someone you like more often. » he stumbled, realizing that it sounded much better in his head. « Intimacy with someone you like's a great way to deal with stress, build up trust and improve both body and mind... I'm sure that... »

He stopped in his track, his mouth dry and his mind blank. He scratched his head indolently, sipping from his amber beverage before realizing that maybe more alcohol would make his argument more clear and convincing. Or was it the contrary ? Why did he come to start talking about sex ?

He inhaled sharply « I'm sure that there's-. »

« Do you want to sleep with me tonight ? » she said at the exact same moment.

« -a nice turian guy out there that... What ? »

He gulped hard and turned towards her. Her frontplate were still furrowed and her mandibles tighlty held against her jaw, but her eyes were much softer. Her lithe body was turned towards, but her arms were nervously crossed over thights, firmly holding on her empty glass. He thought for a second that he hallucinated what he though she just said, and that he crossed the line from really drunk to completely smashed.

« Do you want to sleep with me tonight ? » she repeated, slower, huskier, her words hanging on the silence of the room. She slightly leaned forward, as if to make their head at the same level, her piercing green eyes studying his face for his reaction, his answer. She exhaled sharply, her hot breath betraying the smell of a bread-like alcohol.

He felt his heart pumping strong and hard. Was she always this... cute ?

« Yeah, sure, why not, I'd like to. » he muttered, almost to himself, mesmerized by her green eyes.

« Follow me upstairs. » she simply stated. Putting her drink down and rising up.

He closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side. Suddenly very aware of his surrounding and what was probably going to happen next.

It was a sobbering thought, to say the least.


	2. Part II

**Part II**

He stopped at the threshold of her bedroom, inhaling deeply and trying to gather his thoughts. His throat and tongue felt hot and dry, begging silently for a quick retreat to his abandonned drink. Rubbing his eyes vigourously in the palm of his hand in an attempt to sober up a little quicker, he only managed to make himself loose balance and bump into the frame. He swore under his breath as he entered her room, stumbling and tipsy like a fevered quarian.

Through the closed blinds filtered a dim and pulsating orange light coming from another giant neon sign advertising turian made weaponry. A glowing orange holophic square in the corner marked the place where the turian kept her personal computer, and a couple of twinkling red sparkles near it meant that she kept heat-sinks even there, near her bed. Bed that was strangely placed in a diagonal against one of the room's corner : a plethora of white and red cushions and pillows were spread out on an impeccably smooth white sheet. Each side of the room were covered in waist-high shelves or chest of drawers. He couldn't easily make out what was on those shelves, but he thought he recognized an C-Sec Avenger rifle, quite a collection of colorful books, the shiny metallic sheen of a small turian frigate model and even a plush.

A plush ?

He squinted his eyes, and against the window was resting a small rotound figure in black soft armor. A familiar-faced krogan was staring at him through his furious beady red eyes. He tried jogging his alcohol-addled memory to no end, but he was sure that he saw that krogan stuffed toy before. Unfazed, the dour-faced krogan kept silently judging him from his book throne.

He saw the turian standing up from the other corner of the room, closing a bit clumsily a drawer from the tip of her taloned foot. She turned and approached him, towering slightly over him as she closed the distance between them. It always felt a little strange, he thought, having to crane his own neck slightly backward to look at her green almond-shaped eyes. Her mandibles flapped slightly on the side as she gazed down towards what she was holding in her hands.

« I apologize, I only have... » she let out an annoyed or troubled growl « I only have turian-shaped condoms. I don't think they are gonna fit you. » He smiled, amused by the fact that he never expected her of all people to say something like that. « But I have something that maybe could work. » she continued, her rough voice slightly flustered « I bought something a little while back in a human health-store. The shopkeeper assured me it's a special medical balm that would help prevent chaffing or alergic reaction during... It's meant to be used for when a turian and a human... Look, I can't read the human letters on the thing, but you can. » His smile transformed into a kind chuckled. Her hot breath smelled like the turian brandy she was sipping all night long. And something about the way she swayed her hips standing up betrayed the fact that she was probably as drunk as him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and straightened her neck before adding softly, solemny, as if she was telling him a secret. « You'll simply have to spread it on... _yours_. And I'll take care of... _mine._ »

He gulped and frowned harshly, now a little unerved about how serious she was treating the situation. He realized that things could get out of hand quickly and harshly and leave them both in a very awkward position. He felt compelled to try to slow things down, to slow _her_ down or at least assuage her. He licked his dry lips and searched for the most tactful way of broaching the subject.

« Are you really okay with that ? » he asked, putting his hands on her narrow hips, the hard ridges of her bony scales digging against the fabric of her clothes. « Look, what I said about sex wasn't very smart, it's- »

« No, you are right. » she curtly said, her mandibles opened wide on the side « It's about caring and trusting someone, isn't it ? Being able to share and build pleasure with someone ? You're not teaching me anything, you pyjak, sex is something I'd like to do more often and with people I care about. »

The turian lowered her head and her mandibles visibly relaxed. Even though he was looking at her eyes, she was averting his gaze, seemingly staring at his neck, her hand on his shoulder or the white-blue tube of ointment she was still holding out between her talons. « But it's something I want to do with someone I can completely trust. I've been thinking about it more and more lately, and I feel like...» she finally met his eyes as she added in a whisper « I feel like I trust you enought to show you how-»

« You're cute. » he loudly said, grinning from ears to ears.

« I... What ? »

« Take a breath and relax. It's something every one of your kind should do more often. You're taking this _way_ too seriously. » He felt her tensing up under his hands as he continued « Look, I like you. I do. And it would be lying to your face if I say I'd never wondered if I had any chance of getting it on with you. Alright, everything is going to be okay now in'it ? I'll gladly accept spending the night with you here but you have to... You have to _calm down._ Alright ? One step at a time. Like I said, it's about feeling good with one another, and like you said, it's about trusting each other. Alright ? »

« But... It's not that simple for a human and turian to-»

« No, no, no. » he intterupted with an half-annoyed, half-amused smile and a drunken scoff. « Stop thinking about stuff and relax. Enjoy the moment, let things run their course to their end and let's do something you hate : _improvise_ »

He carefully grabbed the zipper around her collar between his fingers. Her mandibles streched outward as she craned her head backward. « Shush. Relax. » he muttered as he began lowering his hand. The metallic strap slowly opened, its distinctive sound overbearing her rythmic breathing. She let her hand off his shoulder and quickly unfasten belts and buckles around her hips and back with practised efficiency in contrast of his slow way of opening her top. Her belt opened and gave way for his hand to finish its course, finally parting the clothes in a discreet clinking sound. Proceeding carefully and slowly, he tried to take off her stuffy shirt, but the height difference and the unseen nooks and cranies of her bones and scales quickly made the process complicated. She quickly understood from his annoyed frown – and the fact that he was tugging and pulling at her top, jammed somewhere behind her shoulder blade – and helped him strip her. She mindlessly threw the white-blue ointment tube behind her where it got lost between the cushions, and the upper half of her clothes quickly fell on the ground.

He leaned backward to look at her exposed chest : a complex geography of interloping plates and hard looking bones covering her thorax, forming a strange looking tight bowl-like ridge around her clavicles and collarbone protecting the back of her neck, covering the leathery-looking molted skin of her thin neck. Her belly and hips were thin and taunt, the supple skin bending and tensing nicely around her well-defined muscles. Her shoulders, arms and hands were still covered in a strong looking cloth, but through quick and experimented movements she unfastend both gloves and shoulder guard, revealing the same armored pattern of interwoving bone-plates, supple leathery skin and sharp-looking ridges. He followed, fascinated, the complex architecture of her skeleton from the tip of his finger, from the tense skin of her shoulder to her armored elbow and from the nape of her neck to the birth of her hipbone. He made a mental note on how the turian shivered nicely when his hand touched parts of the skin covering her hips and belly, and how she herself was idly stroking against the concave part of her collarbone and soft-looking sternum. He could see her mouth slightly agape, mandibles flapping lazily around her jaw, as the thin slits around her nose opened and closed rapidly following the rhythm of her breathing.

Furrowing her brow, she squinted her eyes and looked straight into his eyes. He felt the sharp tip of her now-naked talons against his side and froze. Some sober part of him now very worried that those talons could easily cut through his skin and make this night of revelry a night of horror. The turian seemed to sense his tension as she aleviated the pressure of her claws, scoffing and muttering a slurred « Shush. Relax. » of her own. He complied and let her find the straps and buckle of his C-Sec uniform, which she quickly undone. His shirt came off much easier compared to hers. He shivered slightly, in part because it felt suddenly colder, but mostly because the turian was exploring his skin as he did hers from the tip of her sharp-taloned finger. Craning his head against the top of her ribcage, he tried to slow down his ragged breathing as he could feel a claw descending ever so carefuly around his spine. He groaned and grimaced as something pricked his skin somewhere on his lower back.

« Ah, I'm sorry. » she murmured, shifting to using the palm of her hand to caress and study his shoulders and upper back. « It's just that your skin is so smooth and... _soft_. »

« It's alright. » he assuaged, « Don't worry about it. »

Embracing each other in the dimly lit bedroom, he tentatively explored her body as she did with his. His lack of knowledge about the standard female turian anatomy was replaced by an earnest hunger for experimentation, a desire to get a good reaction of his stoic partner. And through some trial and error he quickly discovered that her leathery skin was more sensitive than he thought, especially around her neck, soft sternum, armpits and waist. As for her, it felt like his entire back was putty between her hands : she carefully grated around the scruff of his neck, ruffled his hair and traced the outline of his backbones throught a single talon. The sensation was getting maddening, and something primal – or something drunk – was eager for something more intense. Both of them were beginning to shift frantically from one leg to another. He stretched his neck backward, catching her lust-laden gaze

« This is good, in'it ? »

She simply noded and exhaled.

« How about we try to make it work on your bed ? »

She scoffed and pushed him away. Turning on her heels and climbing on the frame of her bed. Through quite a display of flexibility and nimbleness, she unfasten her boots, stripped down her pants a flash and threw the unwanted clothing items on the side. Her legs were of the same pattern of interlaying scale-plates and leathery skin, with one long bone seemingly proturing from behind the top of her calf. He could see her hands quickly working around her lower hipbone, untiying something black and triangular that covered her crotch. Undergarments ?

« I've never though turian girls wore panties. » he mused to himself.

« Why are you still clothed ? Didn't you wanted to come to bed ? » she quipped inquisitively, her usually rough voice betraying her excitement.

Blinking hard and shaking his head, he absent-mindedly strip downed from his trousers and approached the bed, stark naked and half-erect. He came to a stop when he heard a strange sound coming from her : a ragged hiccups coupled with high-pitched intermitent whines. She was slightly shaking on the bed, using on arm to rest and another one to cover her mouth. She was looking at him with a strange expression. He thought she was suffocating before quickly realising, to his dismay, that she was _laughting._

« Now ? You're laughting _now ?_ And you're laughting at me of all things ? » he lashed, visibly upset and quite vexed by a reaction he didn't want her to have in this exact current situation.

« No ! » she chuckled « It's... I mean... Humans _do_ look like hairless primates now that I think of it... »

He let out an exasperated groan and approached the bed, jumping on one leg as he tried taking off his last stubborn boot, but drunkenly stumbled over the abandonned turian shirt and tripped. He caught himself too late and fell face first towards his turian partner, hitting her left thigh with his elbow and banging his jaw painfully against some hip-bone ridge. Sobered by the impact, he shook his head and met her worried gaze, one of her hand softly ruffling through his hair and mandibles streching nervously. She instinctively splayed her legs to let him move. His jaw hurt, but it wasn't going to stop his momentum. Closing his eyes and shifting to get in a more confortable position, he approached his face from her taunt belly and kissed her slightly on the side.

A small surprised whimper accompanied the wet smack of his lips, and he could feel her muscles tensing up from the unusual feeling. A second soft kiss around, lower and to the center, and she shivered nicely. He traveled downard, planting kisses on his road towards the familiar-looking shimmering dark blue slit of her crotch. He was about to reach his destination when she cried out, her eyes alit with a sudden panic. Surprised, he looked up and she grasped his jaw tightly between her hands.

« It's nice, in'it ? » he asked her, perplexed by her reaction.

« It is. It really is. But I know what you're trying to do and you... can't do it. » she said, frustration apparent in her voice. « I don't want you to get... _sick._ »

« What ? What are you talking about ? » he frowned. « Why do you- »

« We don't share the same molecular structure, you idiot. Don't try it. »

His alcohol-adled mind suddenly remembered the basis of turian metabolism and why it would be a very bad idea to try to ingest an unknown dextro-aminated substance.

« Oh. » he slurred, somehow slightly disapointed.

He crawled forward, then threw his hips on the side to lay down on his back next to the turian. He exhales, surprised by the contrast between the soft, mellow feeling of the matress and the rough and firm texture of the pillows. The room felt like spinning slightly, and his limbs started to feel slightly sluggish. Judging by how his partner was slowly breathing in and out and softly scratching at her neck, she was probably feeling the same way. The project of roughtly and wildly flailing around didn't seemed like a very good idea considering her talons and his sluggishness. They had to find something more of their speed, something they could do soflty, slowly... Something _relaxing._ She spun around, facing him, head resting on one palm, and started drawing random patterns on his chest through a careful and light use of her talon. Her willowy and thin silhouette was a striking sight in the dim orange light. He never imagined that his partner could look so lovely, that a naked female turian could excite him so. He was glad she proved him wrong.

« Do you have a plan on how to... proceed ? » she meekly asked, a tinge of lusty need in her voice.

He grinned and turned towards her, resting on his side. « I have no idea.» he admited, « But let's keep improvising. Where did you put that "special balm" of yours ? »

A quick search through the cushions and the blue-white rube reappeared. He took it from her and gave half a try to read the small inscriptions on the back of it before realizing that the room too dark, that he was too drunk, and they were too aroused to try to decipher the minuscule notice. He'll have to trust her judgement and hope for the best.

Arranging pillows to comfortably face each other on the bed, she tentatively hooked her thigh over his hips as he slided his lower body between her long legs. Opening the bottle of lubricant, he dolloped a generous blob of biting cold transparent gel on his finger. He saw her green eyes attentively following his hand when he lowered slowly. The slits on her nose amply opened as her breath became heavier and ragged. He couldn't stop grinning, listening to her every sighs and sounds. His hand reached her crotch and touched supple and thought scales, and from the tip of his finger he felt a warm and fleshy slit in-between.

She let out a high-pitched yelp, an octave he never heard her sing before, and her mandibles clacked on the side of her jaw.

« It's cold ! I thought it was for your... What are you- » she blamed, her usually rough and low voice transformed into a panicked chirp.

« Shush. Relax. Concentrate. » he answered in a whisper. « You just have to relax and... _focus_ on what's happening down there. »

The turian let out a half-frustrated, half-pleasured moan as he traced his finger along the small split of her sex. His slow and gentle back-and-forth were quickly echoed by the small swaying of her hips, following his movements.

She growled and exhaled sharply, suddenly tensing up as she frantically grabbed the lubricant lotion. Wringing the bottle harshly, she liberally coated one of her clawed hand with the transparent gel, grunting and sighing softly as she simply emptied the entire tube on her hand. She discarded the medical lubricant by throwing it randomly over the bed and meticulously rubbed her palms together, lowering her wrists towards his abdomen. He crossed her hazy eyes as he sudenly felt something very cold and wet on his hardening member, a shivering sensation that quickly spread on every inches of his sensible skin. Her ministrations were gentler, slower and more careful than his, her sharp talons only brushing against him in an agonizing hint of a scratch. Thought the way she moved her hand over him was pleasurable, his inebriated state and the cold sensation spreading over his lower abdomen made it hard to get his manhood ready for the next part. Groaning and idly mumbling to himself, he simply closed his eyes and concentrated on the scalding hot wetness that snugly held his finger inside the turian. He pushed haphazardly deeper, unable to do anything more than a rough and simple sawing action.

The turian's ragged flange syncopation of her barely kept-in voice worked like an entrancing tune to his ears. More than enought to send both mind and body into a primal overdrive. His fingers left the soaking feeling of her folds to rub roughly against her entrance. A small fleshy nub at the top of her slit brushed against the palm of his hand and he mindlessly started to rub crudely around the sensitive lump. She whined and shifted on the bed, gritting her sharp teeth before suddenly slapping his hand away.

« Be careful ! » she yelped « You're not supposed to be trying to crack a nut over here ! »

One of her hands left his sticky member to caress her crotch, drawing subtle and light circle from just the tip of her taloned phalange.

« It's your nut, you take care of it. » he brashly stated, his addled-mind unable to come up with anything more clever. His humid hand restlessly tugging and pulling at her narrow hips in frustrated anticipation.

« Let's... Let's... » she whispered softly, squeezing the base of his prick.

« Yeah, let's... » he murmured as he shifted his hips between her thights.

He closed his eyes and reached for his hard member, grasping the turian's hand in his.

He fumbled in the dark for a bit. « Wait... Where is your- »

She guided him. « Ah. Here, right here, right... _here_. »

« Oh. »

« Ah. »

It felt like a snug, wet and smoldering coiling sheath around him. He felt the pointy bone of her calf dig harshly in his thigh as she squeezed her legs around him. The muscles of her loins, rubbing against his belly, oscillating between a state of tense contraction and limp slackening. Her arms hooked around and slightly pulled his shoulders towards her, hands still sticky from sweat and lubricant darting around the nape of his neck or the outline of his shoulder blade. Craning his head in between the bony ridge of her extended collarbone and her thin neck, he layed a soft kiss on the leathery skin of her throat, enjoying the strange taste of her sweat and the delightful feeling of her muscles shuddering as she let out a loud and husky moan. His hands, firmly grasping the hard crest of her coxae, easily guided her narrow hips on a simple and slow back-and-forth motion. At first, he simply pushed and tugged at her, reveling in the way he entered her warmness softly and comfortably. She tensed up, claws inadvertently and painfully pricking his back as her hands constricted. Her breath became even more raspier, more irregular as she started to add subtle gyrations and amplitude to her waist movement, answering his thrusts with a quiet display of flexibility.

He delved deep inside her, embedded in her clingy burning folds. He could feel the topography of her thoracic plates dug strongly against his chest, imprinting his soft skin with the mark and map of her thougher body. Tighthly embraced, he couldn't think about anything else other than her smell, the texture of her scales against his hands, and the warmth that was engulfing his every thoughts and memories. In his momentum and rhythmic bucking, he gently alternated between gently biting and kissing the side of her neck, each time making her produce a loud and lusty sigh. She pushed down hard, straining her head as if to escape his lips. Looking up, he crossed her hazy and unfocused eyes, as if the turian was looking past him. Her red-painted mandibles were quivering haphazardly on the side of her slightly-agaphe jaw, blowing a hot breath on his face that smelled like her turian brandy for every moan she was making. The sight of her pleasured face triggered a strange need in his brain. Gripping the back of her head with one hand, he slowly pushed her face towards him, forcing her to curl up slightly. She blinked hard and her eyes suddenly sparkled, a mix of both panic, anticipation and confusion crossing them for an instant.

It was already too late.

He pushed his lips against her own, discovering their strange and honed roughness. Her scales were warmer than he expected. She tensed and fidgetted between his arm for a second, half-heartedly trying to get away from his embrace before suddenly melting away, her muscles becoming limp and lifeless. He pushed his lips against her face and she answered him, gently catching his fleshy underlip between her flexible plates. Tentatively, he let his tongue pass through the threshold of his mouth, running against the warm and sharp ridge. Soon, accompanied by a moan, he felt the tip of her short, pointed, flexible and fleshy tongue meet his own, flesh quietly brushing against flesh.

She shuddered and twisted, held her breath and exhaled loudly, squeezed and pushed her hips against him, dug her talons harshly over his shoulder bone before her inside felt like coiling tightly around him. She climaxed right there and here, their kiss unbroken, before roughtly and deeply seesawing her hips against his. The imprint of her scales against his skin suddenly got deeper and harsher as she wringed him between her arms and legs. He groaned and grunted, his entire body tensing up in turn, before feeling her slender tongue slide just under his. He bucked violently against her, a wet sound coming from their connected crotches, as he released inside her.

He blinked hard and realized she streched her head backward, staring deeply into his eyes with an unreadable expression as her hands gently ruffled through his hair. Her waist and hips still gently rocking back and forth over his loins. He let the hypnotic sway of her body and intoxicating feel of her hand scratching his head drift him unknowingly to an alcohol-heavy, exhaustion-laden dreamless sleep.


	3. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

He lazily opened his eyes, his face gracelessly squished against the soft fabric of the bed. First, he realized that he was laying on the stomach. Then, a sharp pain spread out through his entire back, his brain prickled by the sensation of having been mauled by some kind of beast. He threw his arm around his back and touched a soft and cool cloth that covered the painful mark under his shoulder bone. He identified the cloth as being a bandage... But for what ?

He looked around, still laying stark naked and flat on his stomach, his eye darting around a room. He was unsettled by waking up in a room he didn't recognized. His gaze fell on a furious-looking miniature krogan that was silently judging him, like an executionner gauging the worth of his new victim, from a throne made of colorful books. The rotound krogan was familiar looking. He was sure he saw that plush before.

A sudden moment of clarity gave him the answer he was looking for, and even more.

Realizing he woke up in the bed of his turian partner with whom he just spent the night fooling around in a half-drunk, half-conscious but very horny state, he shivered as he relieved with a delightful but haunting exactitude the events of the previous night. The echoes of her moans ringed in his ears, as the sharp pain on his back suddenly found an explanation. He heard something shuffling on the other side of the bed but couldn't dare to move a muscle.

His mind was pulled between two contrasting emotions : On one hand, he slept with his partner, an alien woman he came to deeply respect and greatly appreciate the company. The fact that they both enjoyed the night together was an agreable feeling. On the other hand, he slept with his partner, an alien woman he came to deeply respect and greatly appreciate the company. The fact that they both enjoyed the night together was a terrifying prospect. He heard the shuffling intensify on the other side of the bed. Suddenly feeling unsettled by the prospect of turning to face his partner – his lover. He simply looked at the dour-face red-eyed krogan that looked like he could really relax sometimes.

An epiphany, and he quietly muttered the answer he was looking for :

« Garr the Krogan Battlemaster from Captain Cosmic. »

A flanged voice, low and husky, answered him from the unseen side of the bed :

« Oh ? You're awake ? »

* * *

 **End.**


End file.
